


sunflower.

by trouvaille (ResonanceAesthetic)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Character Study, Emotions, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Finding Private Ben Solo, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hux is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Redemption, Long Speeches About Life, POV Kylo Ren, Symbolism, character study with plot, i mean kinda, im trying, will tag as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-27 18:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13254249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResonanceAesthetic/pseuds/trouvaille
Summary: Even after slamming the door in his face, Rey finds that she is still bonded with Kylo Ren. Having carried himself in a façade of confidence and certainty to maintain his position, Kylo himself is beginning to inwardly stutter.AKA a bunch of Force Bond interactions between Rey and Kylo Ren, and how Ben Solo turns towards the sun.





	1. the stutter in his stride

**Author's Note:**

> woo holy shit writer's block had me cuffed for a long time. enjoy this possible mess, being the first work i have for reylo.

The morning is the universe’s beautiful way of presenting foreshadowing in real time. He wakes with a gut feeling, but he dismisses it in lieu of regarding its existence. He inwardly chuckles to himself—does he laugh out loud anymore? Is there ever a reason to?—and rises to his feet. The man who relies solely on emotion and gut feeling is an unreliable leader, he convinces himself. Kylo Ren, on the other hand, is a reliable leader who finds consolation in data and certainty. As he leaves his quarters, he finds himself silently repeating the statement in his mind. He is required to be certain and precise; there is no room for error; there must be no stutter in his voice or stride. Outwardly, there is zero weakness as he walks to his position. His posture is straight, eyes looking forward, arms coupled behind his back, face displaying no emotion even behind the mask of his, emanating a certain confidence; it is all a façade. The gut feeling prods with a sharp dagger, and he can no longer ignore it like he does most other things. He dares not guess what the disturbance so loudly tells him. It is so achingly obvious, but he does not want to accept it. Kylo’s eyebrows furrow in frustration behind the mask—the kriffing mask was often his blessing, hiding his raw emotion as it overrode his strictly dispassionate countenance countless times. 

He makes it through a rather uneventful meeting as the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A chill runs deep through his spine. His body language does not betray him as much as his face changes behind the cover of the mask. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. His pace quickens as he ducks into the nearest empty room. Kylo slows to a stop, facing the wall and placing his gloved hands on the table to steady himself. He removes the helmet and does not know why—it seems like instinct in the moment. Then, the voice. Her voice. 

“Oh,” her tone is quiet. She sounds like she was dreading this as much as he was. In fact, it was her move to shut him out, slam the door on him. His eyes slowly fall upon her. She—Rey, the scavenger, the Resistance ringleader, his unwanted companion, and the girl the Force had bonded him with—looks uncomfortable and almost resentful. Was this not her doing? 

“Oh,” he allows himself to say, his voice almost a hoarse whisper. Kylo’s gaze drifts elsewhere, something in him not wanting to see her so discontented by being in his presence. He realizes how stiff he is, pulls a chair away from the table in the room, and slowly sits, body facing her but eyes focused on the floor. How long would this last? His questions catch in his throat, reluctance feeding the heavy silence between them. If he were in the company of anyone else, Kylo swore, he would not be this disgustingly unsure of himself; however, in the company of Rey, he had always found himself unable to maintain his façade of certainty. His gaze lifts to her again, maybe looking for some kind of invitation to interact. Here he was, a voice in his head mocks, the Supreme Leader of the First Order waiting and wishing to be given a sign, a green light, something to kill the silence. 

“I—” he speaks, but his voice falters as her glare pierces through his skin, his bones, his soul. He looks away, unable to meet her eyes. His mouth is as dry as a desert; tongue nothing but a dune of sand within it. “I missed this,” he croaks out. He feels the tension soften both in the presence of the Force in the room and in the way her body language relaxes in his peripheral vision. _I missed you_ , he says silently, voice echoing in her mind, incapable of finding it within him to form the words out loud. Rey lets out a held breath and looks as if she is considering what to say. Kylo looks up, watching her eyebrows furrow and lips press together. He runs a still-gloved hand through his hair. He sits somewhat upright to seem less sullen and small. _I did too_ , her soft voice in his ears. The corners of his mouth twitch, threatening a relieved smile. On the other hand, Rey twiddles her thumbs in thought.

“Forgive me for being away so long. It will not happen again unprovoked.” She emphasizes the last word as if warning him, which is understandable to him. She apologizes, but she was not to blame for closing the door. Considering this, Kylo opens his mouth to speak but finds that she has risen to her feet and is heading for the door. As the scavenger opens it, she looks back towards him. There is meaning in her gaze. 

“Until next time, Ben,” Rey says. She heads out of the door and into the unseen hallway, gone in the blink of an eye. Ben. The name—his name—pulls on his heartstrings. He sits where he is for only a moment more before collecting himself, wiping the sweat from his brow, donning the mask of a helmet, and exiting the room himself. His stride is strong again, arms coupled behind his back as he walks. Kylo Ren cannot help but dwell on the interaction for a few seconds more, and he is content with his conclusion. Rey—scavenger, the Resistance ringleader, his like-it-or-not companion, and bond-mate—is the stutter in his stride, but he finds that he is not so keen on getting rid of her. In fact, the corners of his mouth twitch again as he finds that the door once locked in front of him is now cracked open.


	2. a market selling hope and light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A planet uncharted reveals itself to Kylo, and Rey has few answers for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to make up for the short, dull introduction of the first chapter, I give you this

The throne room is quiet and dark. Simulated, faint light trickles from somewhere in the ceiling, but it is not enough to keep Kylo’s mind from drifting elsewhere in exhaustion. The heavy burden of having the First Order on his shoulders is admittedly tiresome and draining, dark circles forming dull rings under his eyes from lack of sleep. He removes his helmet, leans his head into his hand, and sighs. Kriff, he’s tired. His eyelids droop ever so slightly, and he is

somewhere else. He flinches and jumps to his feet. The ground beneath him is not stone nor tile…but soft soil. There is no darkness; there is no echo as he breathes; there is no lingering chill up his spine where cold hands seemed to press against his skin. Instead, there is light. Real, warm light—sunlight. The sound of wind flowing through a field rings in his ears like wind chimes. He takes in his surroundings with livid confusion, eyes darting in every direction. 

Despite his actions, Kylo finds that there are no threats here—no soldiers screaming, no fighters of any kind roaring above his head, no beasts coming out of the woods to swallow him whole. His body relaxes and is soothed by the sound of…genuine wind chimes. Kylo turns, and behind him a tree—it is old, he assumes, the weariness that comes with age showing even in this great oak—seems to reach into the sky with many of the lower branches decorated with simplistic chimes that dance in the wind. He removes one glove and gently stops one’s swinging. His grasp is feather-soft, using just his fingertips to hold the chime closer; he does not want to damage it. It’s a small and fragile thing: covered in whites and yellows and—yellow. The bigger picture suddenly hits him with magnificent force. Kylo steps away from the chime-oak and lets it all sink in. 

He is simply a sailor, a pinch of black in a sea of yellow. He stands on a dirt path between two seemingly endless fields of elbow-height, magnificent, yellow flowers. The question of how he got there instantaneously diminishes; what matters is that he is where he is, and it is beautiful. His eyes travel slightly above the fields. A bright, big sun is slowly setting behind the fields, painting the sky in wondrous oranges and pinks. The awe paralyzes him on the spot until something else catches his eye. A pattern. All of the flowers have one thing in common; they all face the sun. He walks tranquilly along the path, studying each passing flower for a careful heartbeat to confirm his theory. 

There is one outlier.

One flower—rather, Kylo would have called it a struggling fern with a few wilted petals—is turned away from the sun. It maintains the same height as the rest of its kind, but it sulks. Its leaves are unhealthy; its petals are lifeless and pale; the stem is withering from its roots. Kylo crouches onto one knee and gently nudges the plant, watching as it sways and struggles to stay upright in its sickly condition. A frown tugs at his face, and his eyebrows furrow in concern. This plant is dying because it is not facing the sun, he concludes. It is not facing the light; it is rotting from the inside out; it is less beautiful and less vibrant than its kin, maybe even holding less potential to be loved and admired. There is a reason he was shown this place, but what was it? He begins to chew his bottom lip in thought as he rises to his feet to once again survey the grandeur of his surroundings. The wind flows through the chimes again, Kylo briefly closes his eyes, and

“Ben.”

he is in the throne room. He flinches, harshly and abruptly coming to his senses. Rey stands before him—only visible to him, of course, she was not actually here—with a look of curiosity and amusement. Her mouth moves, but Kylo is unsure of what she says; in fact, he can still hear the wind chimes. Is he even in the throne room? As soon as the thought crosses his mind, however, the chimes stop their pleasant tune. Rey’s pleasant voice replaces it.

“Ben, can you hear me?” She creeps closer, waving an experimental and hesitant hand in front of his face. The room, her, and her hand come back into focus suddenly. He feels like he’s waking up again, groggy with a dream lingering in his senses. Except the dream was real, and he was not asleep.

“Have you ever been to a planet with a sea of yellow flowers all facing the sun?” The question comes out in a single breath, his sudden bewilderment evident in his pitchy tone.

She opens her mouth, but a wave of suspicion overcomes her. Rey’s distrust hurts him slightly despite it being reasonable. “…Why?”

“I—” He looks genuine to her and feels her wariness within the Force ease away. “I was shown something—someplace, rather. No danger, no war, just an endless land of these yellow blooms all up to my elbow. All doing the same thing. All facing the sun.”

He sees it, and he knows she sees it too as he visualizes the fields around them. Her jaw gapes in awe, eyes lighting up with wonder. The brief visual is enough to send her ballistic, making the surrounding air tingle with her raw emotion. The swell of emotion hits him, and Kylo chuckles inwardly. Has she seen him laugh?

“I-I-I… wow,” she stutters when the upsurge settles again, “Can’t say I’ve been there, but I can say that I’ve seen those flowers before.”

He perks up. “What are they?”

“The markets call them sunflowers. They’re pretty rare as far as I know, so seeing them in such…great concentration is kriffing amazing. That planet must be untouched and uncharted. Anyways, I once saw one being auctioned for a pretty damn high price. They apparently symbolize hope and light amongst common culture,” at this moment she giggles, “so it’s amusing to find ‘hope’ and ‘light’ just being auctioned off as it was. A market selling hope.”

She trails off, not leaving Kylo’s presence but leaving him to his thoughts. His face always says what he’s thinking, so he’s not entirely taken aback when she speaks his mind without tapping in using the Force.

“If you decide to go looking for that abundance of sunflowers, please don’t burn the whole planet down.” He opens his mouth to retort back, but he finds that she has already left. Kylo huffs, heel digging into his throne. The sound reverberates throughout the room and reminds him of how empty, dark, and cold the room is—like the dying sunflower. It was surely a symbol, an unspoken message he would have to decode. No, no. He would not devastate and burn the planet down, he wordlessly communicates to the universe; he just wishes to know why it has been offered and revealed to him. A part of him also wants to show it to Rey.


End file.
